The Shackles Of Our Mind

Written while attending a boring seminar.


I have always believed that this institution, instead of cultivating a culture of excellence, is actually propagating a culture of mediocrity.

This started with a statement from one of my colleagues. She was recalling her experiences to me as a newbie teacher in our school. She was one of the stars of her batch. She was usually given tasks such as conducting basic grammar lectures to the faculty, writing scripts for emcees, to being an emcee herself.  It was also during this time when another of her colleagues told her not to bring too much attention to herself because other members of the faculty might always tell her to do her usual extra work. Why? Aside from the fact that these extra work is unpaid, people will always be dependent on her, asking her to do favors, so in the process, becomes a hindrance to what her real job is, teaching. This is the reason why only a few teachers in our department want to show their talents.

This, I think, should not be the case. Yes, the school gives the faculty opportunities, but not everybody wants it. It's because even if they depend on these talented people, deep down, they resent that quality, they resent the achievement that the person has, and that they are just waiting for that person to make the tiniest of mistakes so they can ravish that person together. Bringing him or her down. Suddenly, being talented is a sin here. So the person, not wanting to incur the sneers of her colleagues, clam up.

You don't see me. XD

We are always told to deliver, but we are not given the supportive environment for us to really grow. Our colleagues would depend on us, but we would always have this feeling that they will be the first ones who will step on us the moment we slip.

It is rather stunting. The negative energy of the academic community stifles the growth of the teachers. And it is hypocritical of ourselves to force our students to be the best when we ourselves stunt each other's talents and scoff.

This is sad. I believe that a school will never be a cradle of critical thinking and excellence if the teachers themselves are not allowed to explore and celebrate their beliefs and ideas.

Memory Is A Fickle Thing

Upon rummaging through my old stuff, I realized that I have accumulated a number of mementos. Letters, magazine clippings, my projects when I was in school and the list goes on. And I felt a little piece of longing to go back to those times when my life was simpler, when all I have to do is to wake up each morning and spend the rest of my day sitting inside the classroom while listening to my teacher; to sit in the isolated parts of the university campus and have a meaningful conversation with my best friends; to wonder as to what would happen to us out there in the real world.

 

I am in the real world now, they say, I am an adult, but still, upon seeing those little mementos of a past life which continuously fade away from my memory every single day, I realized that I have forgotten myself. That I have forgotten to stop, take a back step and see what I did in my life. I let my life slip away so easily, that the only things that I have are a handful of memories that I continue to hold on to, despite the fact that the more days I spend here on this earth, the more they become useless, the more I forget about those said memories, the more I become unreal.

I remember my Philosophy instructor telling us that whenever you cannot remember anything, then the event itself didn't happen at all. Memory is a fickle thing. It shifts and sways with the wind, until one day, you would realize that you didn't happen at all.

That is why I decided to do a scrapbook. 

Or even just a repository of those memories which I tuck away inside my rectangular tin container. I want to open its pages and reminisce about the things that I did which brought me to where I am now. I want to browse through its pages for me to take that backstep and see if what I did with my life measures up to my own yardstick.

I want to browse through its pages and say to myself with determination that I am real and I happened....

Because I remembered.

Do We Really Have A Core?

Do we, as humans, really have a core or are we just trying to put ourselves into this kind of illusion to have some stability in this essentially unstable existence?
 

I believe firmly on the latter.

Human society and civilization itself wouldn't survive without man trying to put order in the chaotic nature of his surroundings.

He needs order and he needs to make sense of his world and the people around him. thus, the never-ending construction of concepts and tangibles that he knew would strangle him someday.
However, it is unfortunate that that someday also collides with the same construction of principles and tangibles.

Man, as rational as he is, cannot anymore withdraw from the constructs which he built; try as he might to resist it. thus, he constructs new things hoping that this new abstracts and tangibles would help him. But no, he ends up strangling himself all the more.
what really is the reason for this construct/meaning-making?

It only has one answer.

Existence itself doesn't have a core, humans don't have a core, there is no core.
It is an illusion man created to comfort himself.

These ideas are not new anymore, but this idea frees us from the superficiality of life. with this kind of realization, it is easier to understand suffering, it is easier to understand wars, and most importantly, through this, it is easier to accept the human condition and the mortality of man.